


Say Hi To God

by Rantaboutbees



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Angst, Lots of Angst, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, probably more characters later but idk I haven't written that yet, takes place right after Our Love Is God
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:05:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rantaboutbees/pseuds/Rantaboutbees
Summary: Kurt woke up in the forest. Ram didn't.





	1. We Don't Choose Who Lives Or Dies

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written, it's nice to be back! I definitely will finish this, I have the whole plot planned out, so don't worry. All I have to do it write it~
> 
> Anyways, this is my first Heathers fic, enjoy!

Kurt jolted awake with dirt on his skin and mud in his face. His arms and legs flew as he scrambled to push himself off the ground. As soon as he was upright, his feet immediately put themselves into action, and he was racing between blurry trees and leaping over obscure bushes. His bare heels stung with every impact, and he raised his arms to try and shield himself from the whipping branches. Each slash burned and faded as he darted in every direction, not stopping to consider where he was or what was happening. He couldn’t remember anything but a gripping, suffocating sense of panic and the feeling of being chased by something he barely knew, and he held onto that terror as fuel to keep himself running. He heard nothing but the sound of his irregular footfalls and his heavy, jagged breathing, which eventually turned into uncontrollable sobbing. He didn’t stop or slow down for a second, until his feel caught on something big and he was flung bodily into the dirt, face first. His hands grasped at the soil beneath him as he sat up quickly and spun himself around to see what he fell over. There was a moment of nothing but sheer terror as Kurt struggled to contemplate what he was looking at, and when it finally hit him, he almost screamed. He dragged himself away hastily, clapping a hand over his mouth and trying not to vomit. His wild, unfocused eyes scanned over the immobile body of his best friend, Ram Sweeney.

 

Kurt took a moment to lay there, gaping at Ram. Then he scrambled back up onto his knees and pulled himself over to his friend, tears falling fast and heavy out of his eyes. He pressed his hands on either side of Ram’s face, then jerked them back in horror. Ram’s skin was impossibly cold. Kurt couldn’t breathe. His chest felt light and feathery, like he was taking in too much air and couldn’t get anything out. Hesitantly he brought a quivering palm over Ram’s bare chest, letting his hand hover for a minute before making contact. He waited. His breathing slowed as he paused, then became more rapid as he tried desperately to find a pulse. His hands were now all over Ram, pressing at his wrists and neck and elbows wildly, until he was just grabbing Ram’s shoulders and arms to try and wake him up.

 

Kurt stood up, put his arms over his head, and squeezed his eyes shut. His knees wobbled. He almost lost his balance, but he put his hands out to keep himself steady. He felt like he was drowning. Is this what people call panic attacks? He had heard of them, but never saw someone experience one. He had definitely never had one himself before, and it was terrifying. He tried to breathe, but he just kept sucking in air, and he couldn’t make himself exhale. He stepped back and forth wildly, trying to stay upright. He felt like he should be blacking out, but he wasn’t. He just kept inhaling, filling up a chest that had to be relieved. He pressed his fists into his eyes and collapsed onto the ground beside Ram. He wanted to throw up. He tried to make himself vomit, like he could somehow rid himself of this terror by spilling his insides. He tried, but he couldn’t. His stomach heaved and he gasped and groaned, but nothing came of it.

 

He turned back to Ram, distraught. Kurt straightened up and put his hands back onto Ram’s body, hoping he would feel different this time. He didn’t. The same deathly cold reached Kurt’s fingers, which were shaking violently.

 

“No, no, it’s okay dude. You’re alright.” His voice was hoarse and pleading. “You’re gonna wake up and everything’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna go back to school and punch a nerd, or find that creepy loser and show him who’s boss.” Kurt was crying again. “We’ll teach him to mess with us. No one touches Ram and Kurt.”

 

As he stroked Ram’s cheeks, he couldn’t shake the sensation that he wasn’t actually touching him. There seemed to be some strange divide between the two of them, and he hated it. He had to feel Ram again, like normal. Ram had to come back.

 

“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.” Kurt repeated the mantra out loud, over and over again, his voice becoming shakier with every word. Every inch of Ram’s body felt detached and unreal, and horrifyingly cold. Chills seeped through Kurt as he threw himself onto Ram’s chest, letting unbridled sobs rack through him. He kept talking, assuring himself constantly of something he needed so desperately to believe, until he was screaming it into Ram’s ice cold neck.  _ This wasn’t happening. _


	2. Badly Damaged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a schedule now! I'm going to update this every weekend, or Tuesday at the latest if I'm super busy. (Which is unlikely, because I actually have no life.) Thanks for reading!

The sound of an ambulance made Kurt jolt upright immediately. He sat up and looked around hopefully, ready to spot the vehicle.

 

“It’s okay dude, they’re coming. They’re going to help you.”

 

The sound of his own voice sounded strange to Kurt. It felt alien, like someone was speaking from far away.

 

The sun had now fully risen, and the soft yellow light shined down on Ram’s exposed skin. The new lighting revealed something that Kurt had not been able to see in the dimness of last night. A bullet had punctured Ram’s shoulder, right through the bone. Blood had seeped onto the dirt around him, forming a dark circle. Holding his breath and glancing around, Kurt wondered vaguely how he had managed to not notice this wound when he first discovered his friend’s body.

 

Kurt had spent the last few years (or so it seemed) lying on top of Ram with his eyes wide open, staring blankly at the ground in front of his face. He had hoped that he would be able to get some trace of warmth into his friend before help arrived, but it was a vain effort. Ram remained just as cold and lifeless as when Kurt had found him. He wondered now if he should try to roll Ram out of the puddle of blood he was lying in, but he was too afraid of causing any more damage than what had already been done.

 

Kurt stared at Ram with anguish, then turned at the sound of footsteps crunching through the leaves. A fireman and three medics were approaching, two of them carrying a gurney between them.

 

Kurt stood and stepped back. “I’m okay, you don't need to worry about me. Just get him.”

 

The workers did as he suggested, paying him no heed and directing their full attention to the boy on the ground. They rolled him onto the gurney and hoisted him up. One medic pressed two fingers to the side of Ram’s neck and nodded affirmatively at his partner.

 

Kurt watched them fearfully. He wanted someone to tell him it was going to be okay, that Ram was going to make it, but he was too scared of disturbing their work and somehow endangering his friend to say anything. He did follow them on the way to the ambulance, however. He moved to climb inside with Ram and one of the medics. No one objected, so he pulled himself in and took a seat next to where Ram lay.

 

The ride to the hospital was long and torturous. Kurt’s heart refused to slow down, as if he were still running, but he didn’t feel particularly panicked right now. He wanted to ask the medic that sat quietly across from him about Ram, but he was afraid of the answer he might receive.

 

“I need you to be okay, man,” He whispered under his breath, staring evenly at Ram’s still face. After a moment’s hesitation, he placed his hand over Ram’s, squeezing it softly. Then he glanced quickly at the medic and shoved both his hands deep in his pockets.

  
  


No one directed him, but he assumed he should head to the waiting room. He sat silently in a chair near the corner, bouncing his leg and looking around restlessly. He needed to see Ram, to know he was okay. He was probably in some surgery room, though, so it would be best to wait.

 

Kurt scanned the waiting room. Everyone was either talking quietly with someone else, or looking down at a magazine. He spotted one person in the opposite corner looking at him curiously. When they made eye contact, she blinked then smiled sympathetically. Kurt looked away quickly, but stole a couple more awkward glances in her direction before resolving to just stare at his hands instead.

 

The girl looked to be about seventeen. She had dark skin and big hair, and her neck was wrapped securely in a cast. She didn’t seem to mind the restriction, though, as her gaze wandered easily throughout the room. She was cute, so Kurt would have noticed her if she went to Westerburg. She was probably a Razorback… Damn it.

 

Kurt exhaled heavily. His heart still hadn’t slowed down, and his breath still wasn’t coming particularly easily. He remembered the geeks at school who would sometimes seem to get like this when he grabbed their stuff or punched their arms. They would breathe into this thing called an inhaler, or something. It usually seemed to help…

 

Kurt put a hand on his forehead and shut his eyes with exasperation. He was turning into a fucking nerd! Who was he, struggling to breathe and wishing he had an inhaler? He rubbed his temples slowly and furrowed his brow. He was ready for this whole ordeal to be over.

 

He suddenly felt a nudge on his elbow and looked up quickly. The girl had moved to the chair right next to him and was smiling at him warmly.

 

He couldn’t decide whether to blow her off or start flirting, so he just stared at her instead. “What?” He asked dumbly.

 

“I brought you some clothes,” She said gently.

 

“What?” He repeated, even more dumbly.

 

Her eyes flicked from Kurt’s face to his head, then slowly down to his crotch. He followed her gaze, a couple vague memories from last night beginning to creep in.

 

“Fuck.” He was still in his goddamn underwear.

 

He crossed his legs awkwardly, putting his ankle on his opposite knee and leaning back. He gave the girl a forced grin and rested his cheek on his fist.

 

“Do you, ah… Like what you see?”

 

The girl suppressed a smile and glanced away. “Take the clothes.” She held out the folded pants and shirt in her arms, both of which looked like they belonged on a hospital patient.

 

“Thank you,” He drawled, accepting her offer and pulling them on. He looked around, hoping no one but this girl saw that he had been one layer away from naked in a hospital waiting room. Fortunately, everyone else seemed too absorbed in their own issues to care, or even notice.

 

She placed her hand on his arm and he turned quickly, staring at her. Her eyes were soft and kind, as if she knew exactly what he was going through, and her palm felt warm on his skin. She smiled gently, stood up, and wandered off. Kurt watched her as she drifted around a corner and down a hall, out of sight.

 

Kurt shook his head, taken aback. He took a moment to try and collect his thoughts, his mind wandering to Ram and the state he might be in.

 

No. No, he couldn’t think about that right now. He had to focus on staying calm and being there for his friend as soon as he woke up.

 

Kurt pressed his face into his palms and shut his eyes, trying to block out everything that was happening. He couldn’t lose Ram, he just couldn’t. Yeah, he was being a pussy, but school would really suck without someone else by his side to pick on losers and skip classes with.

 

“Is there a Ram Sweeney here?”

 

Kurt jerked up at the sound of his friend’s name.

 

“I’m his dad.”

 

Kurt looked up at the reception desk across the room. Sure enough, Bill Sweeney stood there, leaning across the counter urgently. The receptionist pointed him down one of the halls and he took off immediately. Kurt jumped up and started to follow him, but stopped himself. He sat back down slowly, thinking. He decided that he should leave Ram and his dad alone for a while. They might have some… Dadly things to talk about, and he didn’t want to intrude.

 

So he sat impatiently, bouncing his leg more intensely as he glanced around nervously. He placed a hand over his heart and felt it pounding ceaselessly.

 

“Why can’t I fucking calm down,” He muttered to himself, gnawing anxiously on his fist.

 

Movement across the room caught his eye and he looked over, seeing Ram’s dad walking slowly out of one of the doors down the hall. Kurt stood and made his way over, intending to greet Bill, but the man had his head down and walked right past him. Kurt watched Bill go, then turned and stepped tentatively through the open doorway.

 

Ram lay on a hospital bed in the middle of the room, next to a monitor that beeped steadily. A white blanket was draped over his body, and Kurt could see that he was wearing the same blue shirt that the girl had given Kurt. Ram was staring coldly ahead, his mouth covered by a fist and his eyes glazed.

 

Kurt opened and closed his mouth, shifting on his feet as he struggled for something to say.

 

“Um… Hi, Ram.”

 

Ram didn’t respond, or even seem to acknowledge Kurt’s presence. Kurt spotted a chair near the foot of Ram’s bed, and made his way over to it hesitantly. He pulled it back and sat down stiffly, his eyes watching Ram carefully.

 

Ram just inhaled then exhaled heavily, still looking straight ahead.

 

“Ah… How’ve you been, dude?” Kurt asked, his voice feigning lightheartedness.

 

Ram pressed his palms into his eyes and leaned back, sighing raggedly.

 

Kurt released air through his teeth slowly and looked around. He had never before experienced a more painful conversation. That is, if one could even consider this a conversation. He turned back to Ram, who was lying down with his eyes shut tight.

 

“Dude, are you… Are you okay? You wanna… Talk about it?”

 

This was new territory for the both of them, having one person invite the other to share their feelings. Sure, they discussed their problems every now and then, but that was only when they really needed to, not when someone just asked how they were doing. Kurt was unsure how this new tactic would pan out.

 

Ram said nothing. The two sat in stiff silence. Kurt stood up very slowly.

 

“I… I should be going…” He said tentatively, stepping cautiously toward the door.

 

Ram sank down in his bed, his hands covering his face.

 

Kurt reached the doorway and put a hand on the frame, his eyes on Ram. “I’m sorry,” He breathed before sliding quietly out of the room.

 

Kurt held his head down and walked quickly through the hospital halls, stepping out of the path of everyone who approached him. His feet gradually picked up speed as he navigated his way to the exit, and by the time he had pushed open the heavy door into bright sunlight, he had reached a light jog. He ran through the streets as casually as he could, trying to block out what had just happened. His ears were burning, and he felt like an idiot. He wasn’t even sure why. He just didn’t want to think about it, he didn’t want to think about Ram lying there weak and helpless, he didn’t want to think about him discovering Ram’s unconscious body in the middle of the forest, he didn’t want to think about what could have happened if that bullet had hit Ram just a little lower, he didn’t want to think about Ram ignoring him. He didn’t want to think.

 

Kurt looked around and found that his legs had carried him to the abandoned park near Ram’s house. The two of them often came here together to drink beer and talk about stuff like hot girls and football. Kurt smiled at the thought. He couldn’t wait until they could do that again. They were going to come here as soon as Ram got out of the hospital. They had to.

 

Kurt looked underneath one of the slides. Sure enough, a pack of Coors sat there where Ram had stashed them, ready to be consumed. Kurt had a great plan for the rest of the day. Grab a shit ton of beers, sit on a swing, and get fuckin’ slammed until the sun came up the next day. Yeah, it was only like one in the afternoon, and of course it wouldn’t be as fun without a companion, but he could make an exception for all that.

 

“Cheers to drinking alone because your buddy’s in the hospital,” Kurt muttered humourlessly. He reached down and pulled out a bottle. It slipped right out of his hands and fell onto the dirt, luckily without damage. He stared at it, lying on its side on the damp earth, for an extended period of time, then leaned down to pick it back up again. He dropped it again, quicker this time. Kurt huffed. The hell was wrong with him? Was he drunk already? Kurt looked at his hands and realized he was shaking.

 

“Fucking shit.”

 

Kurt was absolutely no expert on safe alcohol consumption, but he figured that if he was shaking too much to even just pick up a damn bottle, he probably shouldn’t debilitate himself more. It would be useless for Ram to narrowly avoid death, only for Kurt to kill himself the day after by accidentally falling off of a playset. He sighed heavily and sat down on the slide.

 

He couldn’t wait for this to be over, for everything to go back to normal. Ram was going to get out of that hospital and the two of them would meet up in the park or in his room, and they’d drink beer and watch crappy movies without ever saying a word. It’d be perfect, and they’d go to school the next day and throw some goth loser into a trashcan, or they’d take a geek’s money and kick his knees, or even just the classic move of smacking Martha Dumptruck’s lunch tray out of her hands. They’d track down that emo dick, JD, and that whore Veronica, and scare them shitless so they’d never bother the two of them again. Everything would be exactly the same as it had been before all of this bullshit had happened.

 

He couldn’t wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt is definitely straight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This chapter contains a small amount of homophobic language//
> 
> Also I couldn't think of a name for this chapter, if any of you have suggestions go ahead and let me know lol

Kurt opened his eyes and stared up at the sky. He had been laying on the ground for hours, his head blank and body still. Dusk was beginning to fall. He pulled himself up onto his feet and looked around wearily. He didn’t want to spend the night outside, obviously, but he didn’t want to be alone in his house either. It was a Monday, so his dad probably wouldn’t be home for a few days. Busy with work a couple towns over. Kurt exhaled heavily, looking down at himself. He was still wearing that stupid hospital gown. He dragged his feet over the dirt beneath him and made his way slowly out onto the street. Wasn’t he a sight to behold? Some random kid who looked like he belonged in a medical center, who had just been sprawled across the middle of some beat-up playground and was now trudging steadily down the road. His legs carried him slowly down the familiar path to Ram’s house, which he didn’t object to. It would be better to be alone on Ram’s bed than on his own.

 

He reached the house rather quickly, since it wasn’t far from the old park. He found his way easily into Ram’s backyard and brought himself over to the window of his bedroom, which was open like always. He had done this countless times -- Pulling himself up through the frame and hopping inside. As he entered the dark room, he could almost believe that everything was normal. This was just an average day. Kurt was here just to hang out with his buddy, or chill until either Ram arrived or Kurt decided to go. Just like all those times that he would come here after school, or on a night that his dad was away, or he wanted to skip school, or he was just bored.

 

Kurt lay down on Ram’s bed, his arms spread out on either side of him as he stared at the blank white ceiling. He breathed slowly and deliberately, trying to force himself to believe that Ram was okay. His hands balled up the sheets beneath him and he tensed. He wasn’t going to cry. He was not going to cry. Not here, not now. Ram was fine, he was perfectly fine. Everything was normal.

It seemed that the harder Kurt tried to hold himself together, the closer he became to falling apart. He held everything in, lying there on Ram’s bed, until it all came spilling out. All at once, Kurt was sobbing. His chest was heaving, he was hyperventilating, his face was twisted in pain as tears fell hot and heavy down his face. He rolled over and buried his face in the blankets underneath him, breathing in Ram’s scent and dampening the fabric. He focused on nothing but that scent. It was everywhere in this room, strong, musky, sweaty, greasy.

 

Kurt pushed himself up off the bed, his face now covered in tears. He picked up a shirt off the floor and brought it to his face. He closed his eyes and inhaled, feeling himself relax as the smell filled his nose. He dropped it and scanned the room. His eyes locked on a movie poster, taped up on the opposite wall.

 

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

 

Ram fucking loved that movie, for whatever reason. He talked a lot about doing exactly what Ferris did, skipping school to steal a car and drive to Chicago. The perfect day, he would always say. He always seemed real excited when he described the things he’d do in Chicago, and his eyes glittered with happiness as he imagined this ideal road trip, so Kurt promised him that they’d actually do it before they graduated. The drive from Sherwood Ohio to Chicago Illinois was like three and a half hours, and if they wanted to get back home by the time school ended, they would only have like two hours to actually do stuff in the city. Ram didn’t care, though. He just wanted to go to Chicago on a school day, and Kurt fully intended on taking him there.

 

Kurt decided that they would do it the day after Ram got out of the hospital.

 

He wasn’t crying anymore. He felt stupid that he had cried. He rubbed his face irritably, drying his eyes and removing all evidence of his breakdown. He remembered that he was still wearing those gay-ass hospital clothes, so he picked back up the shirt he had been smelling earlier. He regretted doing that, too. Jesus Christ, apparently it takes a near death experience in a forest in the middle of the night to turn a guy into a goddamn faggot. Kurt looked down at the shirt in his hands. It was a red and black striped long-sleeve. He liked it. He pulled off his dumb hospital clothes and put on Ram’s shirt. He found some faded blue jeans and put them on, too. Ram’s clothes were just a little big on Kurt -- Ram was about an inch taller than him and slightly more muscular. They felt perfectly fine, though, so he kept them on. Kurt rubbed his chest, feeling the fabric brush his skin. The cloth smelled strongly of Ram. Kurt pushed this out of his mind and sat back down on the bed.

 

He lay down and turned onto his side, looking at the wall with a blank stare. He stayed like that for hours, and he was aware of the room darkening until it was completely nighttime. He was hoping to fall asleep, but his mind was buzzing with indiscernible thoughts that seemed intent on keeping him awake. After a long time, he realized his heart was still racing. It hadn’t slowed down at all, ever since he had regained consciousness in that forest. He had almost gotten used to it -- He barely noticed it now, unless he thought about it. Well, now he was thinking about it, and it still freaked him out. Before all this had happened, Kurt had had nerves of steel. He wasn’t scared of anything. Now his chest was pounding even though nothing was threatening him, and his breath still caught even when there was nothing to be shocked by. Why did this have to happen to him?

 

Kurt directed his thoughts to JD. That motherfucker. Kurt hated him. He hated JD for doing this to him and his best friend. They didn’t deserve this. The fuck did they do to deserve this? They could have died!

 

Kurt felt himself growing hot with anger. He absolutely hated Jason Dean. He tossed and turned on the bed, trying to contain his rage. He had never hated anything as much as he hated JD right now.

 

Kurt jumped out of the bed and stood in the middle of the floor, practically shaking with fury. He had to get him back. JD had to pay for what he had done.

 

Kurt spun, clutched Ram’s desk chair, and hurled it across the room. It slammed onto the wall and clattered to the floor. Kurt froze, suddenly guilty. He walked over tentatively and inspected the chair.

 

His shoulders sagged with relief when he saw that it was undamaged. He lifted it up by the back and placed it gently in the corner of the room.

 

Kurt looked around and decided he didn’t want to risk hurting any more of Ram’s things. He considered leaving and finding someplace else to spend the night, but he didn’t have anywhere to go. He resolved to just sit in the corner of Ram’s room and do nothing until he was given something else to do.

 

He decided he would go to school tomorrow.


End file.
